s_,"
or spots of the glistening reddish leaves, nearly an acre in breadth.
This was a fortune in itself. Could he only collect 100,000 pounds of
this bark, and convey it down stream to the mouth of the Amazon, it
would there yield him the handsome sum of 40,000 or 50,000 dollars! How
long before he could accomplish this task he had not yet calculated; but
he resolved to set about it at once.

A large house had been already constructed for storing the bark, and in
the dry hot climate of the high Montana, where they now were, Don Pablo
knew it could be dried in the woods, where it was stripped from the
trees.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A PAIR OF SLOW GOERS.

At length, all things being ready, Don Pablo and party set out for a
day's work among the cinchonas. As it was the first day of
bark-gathering all went along to enjoy the novelty of the thing. A
"mancha" of the cinchona-trees was not far off, so their journey would
be a short one. For this reason, the horse and mule remained in the
stable eating the fruits of the "murumuru" palm, (another species of
_Astrocaryum_), of which all cattle are exceedingly fond. Even the hard
undigested stones or nuts, after passing through the bodies of horses
and cattle, are eagerly devoured by wild or tame hogs, and the zamuros,
or black vultures (_Cathartes aura_ and _atratus_), when hungered, take
to the pulpy fruit of this thorny palm-tree.

It was a very early hour when they set out, for Don Pablo and his people
were no sluggards. Indeed, in that climate, the early morning hours are
the pleasantest, and they had made it a rule to be always up by
daybreak. They could thus afford to take a _siesta_ in their hammocks
during the hot noontide,--a custom very common, and almost necessary, in
tropical countries. Their road to the cinchonas led up the stream, on
the same side with the house. After going a few hundred yards, they
entered a grove of trees that had white trunks and leaves of a light
silvery colour. The straight, slender stems of these trees, and the
disposition of their branches,--leaning over at the tops,--gave them
somewhat the appearance of palms. They were not palms, however, but
"ambaiba" trees (_Cecropia peltata_). So said Don Pablo, as they passed
under their shade.

"I shouldn't wonder," added he, "if we should see that strange animal
the ai. The leaves of these trees are its favourite food, and it lives
altogether among their branches."

"You m